Page 47 of Straw and Gold
By the end of the fifth week of my time as Queen of the Citrine Cliffs, I was writing another letter to Korven and Seraphine.
My dearest loves,
I cannot express my joy upon receiving your last letter. I’m afraid Avici is blossoming and I am not there to witness. In the new year, we will visit and I will squeeze my darling girl again. The fields here are beautiful as autumn descends, and the rain is keeping everything green and lovely.
“Prepare your list of names tonight.”My husband’s voice startled me and I turned from the small writing desk to watch him finish his shift through our bedroom door.
“Killian!” I shouted, pressing a hand to my chest. “Don’t do that!”
He strode to the desk, crouching to meet my face. “The names, Morella. Have you started a list of potential names?”
“Of course I have, but?—”
“Tomorrow,” he interrupted. “At dawn. We go to the cliff at dawn and you will speak each one across the valley.”
His face was hard—a mask I’d come to recognize. I brushed his cheek. “Did something happen?”
“No.” He rose, backing away from my touch. “Our time is dwindling and we must begin your attempts.”
I nodded, adopting his serious tone and quickly signed the letter, folding and stamping it with the wax seal of the Citrine Cliffs, to be delivered in the morning.
I withdrew the scroll of parchment I’d been using to jot down potential names while studying and unrolled it. “Would you like to see what I have so far?”
“No,” he replied instantly, hanging up his midnight blue jacket and unbuttoning his shirt underneath.
I crossed my legs as his bare chest was revealed and stared unabashedly at his muscled torso. What did he do to keep so fit? How had muscles like that been so sculpted, so defined?
It had been almost three weeks since he’d voluntarily touched me more than our kiss goodnight. Even with those, he didn’t touch more than necessary, though he took his time. Each kiss came slow and thoughtful. Each brush of our lips sending us into the quiet night as if it was all he was willing to allow.
He broke my thoughts as he returned to my side, leaning down near my lips. “I’ll kiss you goodnight, Morella.”
He placed his mouth softly on mine, not lingering this time, but inhaling a full breath before he turned away.
I bolted upward from my chair as he left. “Wait! Where are you going?”
He didn’t turn as he continued toward the bathing chamber door. “I’m taking my bath now. You should rest early. I’ll wake you an hour before dawn.”
The door closed behind him and I stood alone in our room, the fire crackling, the beds turned down, my lips still blooming in the ghost of his kiss.
Three weeks.
Three fucking weeks, and I considered if I could stand many more. My body begged for more of what we had shared that night, and when I was in his presence, it was so much worse. I’d change each evening to find myself aching for his hands, my belly absolutely churning in discomfort with thoughts of everything we could have had by now.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want me.
Oh, no. I saw it there each morning as he stole glances while I read. It was there each day he met me in the stairwell, and there on his face as he watched me leave his side with Fedir, his eyes hard and jealous—so blatantly obvious that Fedir often turnedto give him a sheepish grin to apologize for something that was Killian’s own damn fault.
A lack of desire was not stopping him.
Before I’d thought through my decision, I was at the bathing room door, knocking softly. His questioning reply was muffled and I lied through my teeth. “I just forgot to tell you something. May I come in?”
Another grumbled reply didn’t fool me in the slightest, and I opened the door softly, meeting a candle-lit chamber, fresh with steam fogging every surface.
His enormous frame draped over the entirety of the tub with his head leaning back against a towel, his eyes closed in the silence. “What is it you’ve forgotten to tell me?”
I studied the way his arms lay still, though his hands pressed tightly to the side of the tub, the raised veins striking. “I…I shifted and flew for nearly an hour today without tiring. And Fedir thinks I’ll reach two hours within the month.”
“Morella,” he started, “you know I receive this information each day, so it is not that you have forgotten to tell me.” His eyes flashed open and he caught me staring. “What is it you really wish to say?”
